Elle's Seduction

by Abby-Rae Rose

  His breath was against her ear again. The soft caress of his tongue sent her bowing against him, unable to deal with the pressure building inside of her. His next command nearly made her cry in need. “Let me see your breasts. Cup them for me.”

  Elle didn’t know what happened or why she obeyed. Before she could consciously decide, her hands were sliding her breasts away from the corset. Cupping her breasts and raking fingers around the pebbled nubs of her nipples. Pleasure shot straight through her as he nibbled his way down her neck and moved his hands to bunch her skirt, pressing her against him even as his fingers sought skin under the fabric folds.

  The darker man was wild now with his thrusts. The woman was gone, but the middle man was braced against the wall, both hands holding him against the onslaught. Pure rapture was all Elle could see from her vantage point. The middle shouted out and thrust back hard against the dark man as he bellowed his own release. The expulsion of the darker man’s ejaculation sent the smaller man over the edge again; his face a mask of deep pleasure and euphoria even though he was obviously rung dry.

  Breathing hard, she groaned at how wet she was. The need was overtaking her. Even now she wanted to strip and masturbate there right in front of the man behind her, anything to get the relief she knew she needed. He wouldn’t leave her like this, would he?

  Finally, the man’s fingers touched skin. His hand drifts from her thigh up inch by inch toward her pubis, even as she flicked and twirled her nipples for him. He wasted no time with her slip of underwear; his fingers sliding right under the seam. Her breath hitched as slowly, inch by inch, those fingers moved toward her clitoris. Tortuous seconds later he searched between her curls to find her damp and weeping.

  “Ah, you’re very wet. If I flicked your clit and slid my finger inside of you, would you come for me? I wonder what you would do if you were in the middle. Hmm, my sweet, would you fall apart if two men took you–—if two men drove you wild?”

  Elle shook her head. She couldn’t allow this man, someone she didn’t even know, to completely ruin her life by ways of seduction. Besides, she was going to try to make something happen with Darren.

  Darren, Christ. She’d forgotten all about him. He had to be waiting for her.

  Chapter Ten

  “I wonder if you would let me take you right now, here in the corridor.”

  She rubbed her backside against the man’s erection. God look what she’d been brought to, begging for sex in a dark corridor from a stranger.

  “Tell me, Elle...”

  “Please.” She was so caught up in her need. She hadn’t realized she’d spoken.

  A chuckle reverberated along her neck. “Ah, you shameless hussy,” The stranger placed big and firm hands on her hips. He trusted his hips hard against her, making her feel him to her toes. She shivered as his breath caressed her ear, sending spiraling heat to her core. She couldn’t take much more. The need was already out of control.

  “Just how far will you go to scratch that itch?”

  A bang on a door down the hall reverberated through her. Damn what was she doing? Her fingers stilled. She was in a public place. She didn’t know this guy from Adam. He could be a serial rapist or something, or have some horrible disease. “Wait...”

  When she turned he was gone—the corridor empty.

  The only thing left was the heavy tattoo of her heartbeat against her clit, driving her wild. How was she going to get through the night with Darren?

  ***

  Getting rid of the flush on her cheeks had taken longer than she’d liked. A trip to the bathroom and cold water had done a bit to help but she was on edge. Out by the bar, she listened closely to the different voices, trying to find the One.” He was long gone, probably cursing himself for wasting his time on her.

  Darren stood at the bar, picking the green, white, and silver label off a bottle of beer. His head didn’t even come up as she slid into the stool beside him.

  She had to be the worst date ever. “Sorry it took so long.”

  Darren looked up and smiled. There was tightness around the eyes that hadn’t been there when she’d left him. “Oh, good, your back, here’s your MahiMahi.”

  The ice had long since defrosted and the drink sat warm and unappealing. Elle was too ramped up to care. She grabbed the drink and took a heavy swig, trying to remain calm and collected.

  Seconds ticked by without a word from Darren. Normally he talked non-stop. His silence gave her a chance to really look at him for the first time. Blond hair and height were really the only extraordinary things about his appearance. His face was average—no chiseled jaw or full lips like Maxwell. His eyes were startling blue, but it was his smile that transformed him. His British accent seduced. For an instant, she saw another pair of eyes and a handsome face. Maxwell wasn’t here though—Darren was and she’d take full advantage of him. “So, what is this place?” Darren turned to her and the distant look he’d been giving the Heineken bottle disappeared. His jaw set and he stood up. “I wanted to introduce you to someone.”

  Out of the corner, a man approached them with a silver half-mask and tux. Warm brown eyes bore into her, making her think she’d met him before. He leaned up to whisper in Darren’s ear. Several seconds passed as Darren whispered heatedly back and forth with the man. Not many of the patrons wore masks—only a handful that she’d seen. Elle figured it must be some type of costume. Considering how few clothes most of the patrons wore that was saying something. There was also a lot of leather too. Darren had said there was a certain dress expected here.

  For the first time that evening, she was nervous. He wanted to introduce her to someone. At the same time, several of the other people had begun to take interest in her standing next to Darren..

  A sound next to her brought her back into the conversation. The man in the mask flashed a look over at Elle, his face expressionless. He spoke loud enough for her to hear this time. His voice seemed familiar in its crisp, precise pronunciation, “She’s ready. Have some faith in her. But I’ll tell the Master you were detained.”

  He turned to her, bowed, then left.

  Darren stared after him for several seconds. Cringing, he grabbed her hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Elle didn’t even think twice. She put her unfinished drink down on the first table she was drug past. The two occupants didn’t even glance up at her.

  Outside, the chill of the evening, broke through her flushed haze and snapped her out of the dangerous neediness she’d felt inside.

  In the car, she glanced back. The Den’s black and red sign glowed softly against the black building. Austere, Discrete, Seductive, Exclusive, and definitely not a place she should be in, no matter how exciting her body found it.

  ***

  By the light of day—and after a very long, restless night—Elle could have shot Darren. What on Earth had possessed the man to take her to a place like that on a weeknight? Maybe she’d imagined a lot of it. It was so dark and even now she had a hard time remembering exactly what she had and hadn’t seen.

  It didn’t make a lot of sense why Darren would invite her there in the first place. Of course, she found him attractive and wouldn’t have minded if he’d made a move, but he’d left her at her apartment door with only a soft kiss on the cheek. No explanation, no talking at all really.

  She’d been too caught up in the tension inside of her to notice the silence. Too caught up in replaying the scene in the hallway and the man who’d found her. She couldn’t get that deep voice out of her head. His fingertips left a brand on her hips that moved through her core—still igniting the slow burn inside her. He knew her, somehow. Not only her deepest needs but he knew her name.

  Shouldering her purse, she pushed through the office doors and made her way toward her cube, going through all the possible men she knew in Nashville. She ruled out Darren. Her man had no accent; but it could have been anyone in the office. Even...

  “Elle!”

  God, no, not him! Tu
rning mid-stride, she put on her best smile and hoped she didn’t look too flushed. “Fred? Hi!”

  “Elle, cancel all your appointments. You’re working exclusively with Maxwell. Whatever he needs, you help him with. This launch has to be perfect.”

  Elle listened intently and tried to compare voices. She couldn’t be sure. “Damn.”

  Fred raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent. If he’d just say another couple of words...”Isn’t that your project?”

  “Yes, but I know you are looking to step up and this would be an excellent opportunity.”

  Yeah, or he’d screwed up and wanted someone to place the blame on.

  ***

  Spit bullets. That’s what Maxwell wanted to do. Darren, the bastard, couldn’t be found and the sound of Elle’s happy twittering one cube over was driving him insane.

  She’d arrived at his cube first thing, flushed and looking good enough to kiss. Glorious curls bounced and her dimples flashed...just like he imagined she looked after a night of passion and hot sex in his bed.

  Only problem was—she’d had it with Darren.

  And Darren was hiding.

  His phone beeped with a text from Luke. Fred again, that man was going to be the death of him. Throwing his pencil down, he strode from his dingy, pint-sized cube and headed to Fred’s office.

  Luke waved him in.

  “What’s going on Fred?”

  Fred paced the room his hair disheveled and his face flushed. “You want us to change the specs. Balsam is cheap. You’re asking for plastic. At this rate, our product won’t be the quality I promised.”

  Maxwell closed the door and stepped up to Fred’s desk, leaning on it with both arms. He allowed all the fury and frustration he’d dealt with since Darren left him last night high and dry to show on his face and in his voice. “Fred. It doesn’t matter to me what the board thinks, what my brother thinks, or how much freakin’ research you’ve done on these worm farms. You’ve already spent over $500,000 on something that I think is complete crap. We will get this project in under budget and the damn things are not going to crack open and spill ants and worms all over our customer’s homes.”

  Fred opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. After several tries, he began to tear up. “Maxwell. This will work. I promise you. Just give me a chance.”

  Maxwell couldn’t believe it. Tears. He had to get away from this man. “You know, Fred, this would have been easier if you’d brought others into the project before spending the money and screwing up.”

  The phone rang, interrupting his tirade.

  Fred looked nervously between it and Maxwell. Fed up with all of it, Maxwell stormed out of the office and planted himself firmly back in his cube. On his way, he’d caught a glimpse of Darren exiting Elle’s cube before the man disappeared to god knows where. They needed to talk. The man was spending more time with Elle than he was. And what had happened last night? They had a deal—Elle was supposed to be brought up to the Salon. Elle had been primed. Maxwell had made sure of that. It had cost him to walk away from her in the hall but he’d done it. All Darren had to do was get her to The Den and up to the Salon. Together they would take it from there.

  But no, nothing was turning out as he’d planned it. Few things in life ever had.

  Swearing under his breath, Maxwell twisted the class ring around his finger and threw his pencil down. Z Toyz had been his and his brothers’ creation, and no matter what demons had led him to this life, he wanted more, this time for himself.

  Five minutes with Elle wouldn’t kill him.

  Chapter Eleven

  This promotion was going to be the death of her. Fred was going to have her drawn up and quartered, and blame everything on her if she wasn’t careful. It reminded her of an old abused dog she’d seen once. The poor thing was ragged and broken down, but time and again it would go to its owner when it was called— tail wagging between its wobbly little legs. Sometimes it got a treat, other times Old Sampson would kick him just for fun.

  Her mom had finally called the dog pound and the poor thing had been taken away.

  She was that dog with Fred hanging that promotion over her head as he kicked the crap out of her. Maxwell was just the task master. And a moody one at that. He’d taken the skin out of everyone’s hide, even, Darren’s, since Monday morning when she’d come in.

  She had to ask herself, was she really this desperate to get to LA? She didn’t have to take the crap. The attraction humming under her skin for Maxwell and Darren wasn’t helping her either. One minute she wanted to kiss one of them, and the next she was ready to punch Maxwell in the gut for his blustery attitude.

  What about Friday night at the Den and the man in the corridor? She couldn’t get it out of her mind. Even now she could still feel the man’s breath on her neck and the seductive touch of his hands on her hips, that deep voice whispering naughty things in her ear.

  Did Darren know the wicked things that went on there? Surely, he had. Why had he taken her if only to push her out the door five minutes later without ever making a move on her? He’d left her at her apartment, aching and so needy she’d nearly cried when she managed to get into her apartment. With those eyes and physique, he could turn any woman’s eye. But one minute he’d acted interested and the next he was distracted.

  A knock on her cube wall brought her back to the present.

  “Hey, you hear about Fred’s problem?” Maxwell stood at her cube entrance, tall and strong as ever. Her heart picked up the pace as she let the sound of his voice wash over her.

  She remembered his touch in the conference room, the hot kisses and the feel of his body so close she hadn’t been able to breathe. He was handsome in a gray pair of slacks that hugged his narrow waist and a blue striped shirt and gray tie. Just being that close to him knocked her libido up a notch and made her think naughty thoughts that no one should think about their colleague.

  A shiver went through her as she thought of Maxwell and the man from the club—both of them talking to her and seducing her. The strange overlay of the two had her confused. How could she be attracted to two men all at once? One sent shivers down her spine just at his nearness—the memory of the few moments in the conference room still fresh and somewhat humiliating, the other she knew only from a few intense moments in a hallway; and the third, Darren, went hot and cold on her like melting ice cream.

  She had to get a grip on herself. Stick to work and the current crisis. “Yeah, I’ve spent most of the morning down on the dock. He sure isn’t happy you switched that order of balsam on him.”

  Maxwell looked down at his notes and then the clock. “You wanna go to lunch?”

  Stunned, Elle took a long second to gather her thoughts. She’d wanted him to ask her since they’d first met and now she wasn’t sure what Darren was to her and The Den...

  Her confusion must have shown because he said, “We can go another time.” Maxwell straightened and turned to leave.

  “No. Maxwell. Let me grab my jacket. Lunch sounds great”

  ***

  The next week played out in a strange dance, lunch with Maxwell every day. What happened in the conference room was in the past. Fighting the growing attraction and confusion she felt toward Maxwell and Darren was another story.

  Elle solidly put The Den out of her thoughts. Fred nagged them constantly about his project and this or that thing they changed to deal with problems in the project. And Darren just avoided them both. It was utterly frustrating and Elle wasn’t sure how she was going to take it much longer.

  She went home achy and needy every night. Poor Garfield asked if she was on drugs—she was so distant and distracted.

  Friday came along with no sign of Darren anywhere in the office. Maxwell was curiously absent too as Elle walked through to her cube.

  Fred interrupted her just seconds after she settled in, eyes red and blurry. “How are we doing?”

  “Maxwell made the final adjustments and we’re testing a new proto
type. Hopefully this one won’t leak ants and worms.”

  Fred’s eyes took on a wild look. “I’m holding the both of you personally responsible if we cannot come in under budget. The success of the company may rely on this. I spent months on this project and you and Maxwell are tearing it apart.” He turned from the cube before she could reply, already moving down the aisle, his voice fading as he said, “Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

  When Maxwell didn’t show for lunch, Elle made herself some oatmeal and hunkered down to crunch more numbers. She’d just begun an email to the suppliers when Sally stopped at her cube. “Just got a call from Fred, he wanted to talk about his plans for me.”

  Elle ignored her and just kept typing.

  “He said something about that big promotion and that he was looking for more candidates. The pool wasn’t looking as good as he’d hoped.”

  Elle fumbled over a few keystrokes but kept typing. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

  “Oh, well. Surprise!”

  “Healthy competition is a good thing.” Elle gritted through her teeth, giving up all pretense of typing. If Fred didn’t think she was up for the job, it was a death sentence.

  Sally’s eyes flicked to the screen and those ruby red lips tilted in an evil smile. “Sorry to have interrupted your important communication. You might want to spell check it before you leave. I know you were raised in a barn, but we really want to put our best foot forward.”

  Elle set her teeth and held back a very unladylike retort.